Aquiline
by Girl In White
Summary: Born with a damaged heart, Eleanor Barrington lived a sheltered life with little chance of adventure. When her father goes on a mission, Eleanor is taken into the care of her Aunt Victoria in Boston. A cruel, cold widow who is ready to marry her off to the first man she can find. Will Eleanor survive the revolution? Or will her heart give out when she needs it most?


_"You gain strength, courage and confidence by experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."_

- Eleanor Roosevelt

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.P.

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Our story begins on a dark winter's evening, when the fog hung so heavily over the streets of Boston that the lamps were lighted and the shop windows blazed with gas as they do at night, an odd-looking little girl sat in the stagecoach with her father, and was driven quite slowly through the thoroughfares.

She sat with her legs tucked under her, and leaned against her father, who held her in his arm, as she watched the passing buildings with a unusual attentiveness in her blue eyes.

One would not expect such a look from a girl of her age. It would have been an odd look for a child regardless, and Eleanor Barrington was only eight.

At this moment, Eleanor was remembering the voyage she had just made from London with her father, Captain Barrington. She was envisioning the big ship, of the children playing on the deck, of the sails that ghosted behind the gaffs at day, and some of the young officer's wives who used to try to make her talk to them and laugh at the things she said.

She was imagining herself back in London, seeing the differences everywhere even though Boston was so similar. Mostly, she was thinking about how quick the trip had gone past. It had puzzled her so much, she had moved closer to her father.

"Papa," she asked in the little mysterious voice of a whisper, "papa."

"Yes, darling?" Captain Barrington looked down at her kindly, holding her closer. "What is Eleanor thinking of?"

"Is this the place?" She asked quietly, holding him closer. "Is it, papa?"

"Yes, little Ellie, it is. We have reached it at last." And though Eleanor was eight, she knew that he felt sad when he said it.

It seemed like a very long time that he had begun to prepare her mind for 'the place', as she always referred it. Her mother had died when she was born, so Eleanor had never known or missed her. Her young, rich father and his sister was the only family she had left.

She had known he was rich because she had heard people say it when they thought Eleanor was not listening, and she had also heard them say that when she grew up, she would be rich too. She did not know what being rich meant. Eleanor had always lived in a nice house, and had been used to seeing many servants and doctors who were very kind to her. She liked the servants more than the doctors because sometimes they would tell Eleanor that she would not be allowed out of bed very often and she could not play with the other children.

She did think the doctors did not want her playing with other children, and instead of friends Eleanor was gifted with dolls instead. The outside world was replaced with the four walls of her room. Her father was the only true friend she had. He was the loyal steed or the fire-breathing dragon when he came home from work. He was the kind King or the prince charming that would sweep Miss Honeycomb (Her doll) off of her china-feet.

"Couldn't yougo to that place with me, papa?" she had asked when she was five years old. "Couldn't you stay with Aunty Victoria with me too?"

"Your Aunt Victoria is a lovely lady. You will go to a nice house where there will be two little girls. And you can play with them when you feel better. I will send you books, and you will grow so fast that it would be scarcely a year before you are big enough and clever enough to come back and take care of papa."

She liked the idea of that. And she was excited to meet her Aunt Victoria. She had two younger daughters; Patricia and Isabel who were meant to be quite lovely. It was very exhilarating, but also made little Eleanor very nervous. A tightening in her chest began and her breaths became light and airy before she was attacked by a fit of coughs. Captain Barrington hugged his daughter tightly, hoping that the coach would hurry so they could meet the doctor and Aunt Victoria at the homestead.

"Do you think they will like me, Papa?" Eleanor asked, clutching onto her father's arm. "The children…Patricia and Isabel?"

Captain Barrington smiled and kissed her forehead. "Of course they would. You are a very delightful little girl, Ellie. Your imagination will cast them all under a spell."

"Will you come and visit often, Papa?" Eleanor said softly, hoping he would.

There was a sadness in Captain Barrington's eyes. "I will try my very best to do so." He looked out the window; being reminded of how little time they now had together. His quaint, little Eleanor had been a great companion to him, and he felt he should be a lonely man when, on his return to London, he went back to the brotherhood knowing he need not expect to see the small figure in its white frock come forward to meet him. He held onto her closely in his arm as the coach finally rolled to a stop in a big, wide street, in which stood the house which was their destination.

It was a big, dull, brick house, exactly like all the others in its row. Golden light gleamed out from the foggy glassed windows as the rain from the clouds above began to splatter onto the ground.

"Here we are, Eleanor," Captain Barrington said, sounding as cheerful as possible. He then lifted her out of the coach and they walked to the front door. Eleanor often thought afterwards that the house was somehow exactly like Aunt Victoria. It was respectable and well furnished, but everything in it was ugly.

A woman answered the door, and Eleanor knew it was her Aunt Victoria. She was very tall and dull and respectable, but quite beautiful.

"Peter." Victoria greeted, her voice pleasant as her eyes fell on little Eleanor to criticize her. "And you must be Eleanor."

"Victoria." Captain Barrington's hands squeezed Eleanor's shoulders lightly. Eleanor, from what she considered would be polite, gave a little curtsey and then leant into her father.

Captain Barrington looked up at Victoria. "Is the doctor here?" he asked, a sense of urgency in his words. Eleanor felt worried and tugged on her father's jacket cuff.

"Papa." She asked quietly.

His kind eyes moved down to Eleanor. When Captain Barrington saw the building sadness in her eyes, he knelt down in front of her. "It's going to be alright, Ellie. I promise you that."

She hugged her father tightly, hiding her head in the crook of his neck. "I'll miss you, Papa."

His heart dropped with sorrow as he heard her usher those words. He kissed her cheek, giving her body a final squeeze. If only he could take her back. If only it was safe to do so. "I'll miss you so much more, my little Ellie. You must know that I love you very much and Aunt Victoria will take very good care of you."

The town's bell began to chime and Captain Barrington knew he was running late. He hugged sweet Eleanor for as long as he could, pulling away at the last moment. He gave her a smile, looking into her saddened eyes. "Now, inside you go. Go get warm and dry and ready for bed. Be good for Aunt Victoria. Be strong, Ellie and I will be back before you realized I was gone."

Aunt Victoria's hands found their way to Eleanor and pried her softly away from her Captain Barrington's warm and familiar body. The little girl sniffled and rubbed her red eyes, looking up at her father and wishing he could stay with her.

Eleanor watched as her father gave Aunt Victoria a letter and went back into the stagecoach. If Eleanor was not as sad as she was, she would've asked her father what the letter was about. She stayed there at the doorway even when Aunt Victoria ushered her out of the cold. She watched him wave at her from the little window and she waved back. And when Aunt Victoria had sent her to bed that night, Eleanor stayed up and looked out onto the rainy street through her little window in her cold, dark room.

Her father was gone and little Eleanor felt a part of her had left with him too.


End file.
